


stupid about you; or, the misadventures of one sawamura daichi

by asphodehls



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Flirting, Background Kuroken - Freeform, Crush at First Sight, Daichi owns a dog, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Sorry Not Sorry, Stupidity, background bokuaka - Freeform, i cannot stress enough how soft and stupid both this fic and daichi are, sawamura daichi has one brain cell and it's entirely dedicated to suga, soft and stupid, this was meant to be a short thing and it kinda spiralled out of control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 17:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18743356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphodehls/pseuds/asphodehls
Summary: Daichi thinks early mornings are shit.Then the most beautiful man in the world starts frequenting his usual coffee shop, and maybe the early mornings aren't so shit anymore.If only he could work up the courage to talk to him.~What it says on the box - Daichi has one brain cell and it's entirely dedicated to falling in love with Suga.





	stupid about you; or, the misadventures of one sawamura daichi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sodelicate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodelicate/gifts).



> A very early birthday present to my wonderful friend Sara - I hope it lives up to the hype!
> 
> And thank you so much to my betas - louie_writes and her top notch commentary, and a friend who shall remain nameless. Both contributed so much to this fic and I'm incredibly grateful!

 

Daichi’s first reaction upon hearing the sweet, cheerful tune he’d set as his alarm was a deep, heavy groan from the very centre of his being.

His second reaction was to, for the eleventh time, curse himself for thinking this was a great idea.

His third reaction was to fling an arm out from under the blanket to grab at his phone and finally shut off the sound.

He wanted more than anything to just curl up and drift back off to sleep, but he knew he had no choice. He had to get out of bed. If he started reneging on the promises he’d made to himself, he’d never go back to them, and Sawamura Daichi was no quitter.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Before he had the chance to stand, something cold and wet nudged against his hand insistently. He glanced down and smiled at the black and tan Shiba Inu that was staring at him hopefully.

“Come on, Meatball,” he said, scratching behind the dog’s ears.

He got to his feet and Meatball followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Daichi grabbed the container of dog food and knelt down beside the bowl on the floor to fill it. As he did, he glanced at Meatball, who sat down and watched the process intently, tail twitching.

“Good girl,” he said. “Go on.”

As soon as the command was out of his mouth, Meatball dove for the bowl and jammed her face in, seemingly attempting to inhale as much as she could in the shortest possible time span. Daichi put the food away and left her to it to head back to the bedroom. Humming to himself, he grabbed the clothes he’d set out last night and changed. It only took a minute, but when he made his way to the front door, Meatball was already there, waiting patiently, ears pricked and eyes bright.

“You got used to this routine quicker than I did,” Daichi joked, grabbing Meatball’s leash and tugging on his shoes.

Meatball, as usual, didn’t answer. She allowed Daichi to clip her leash to her collar, bright white against her dark fur, and then followed obediently at his heel as they left the apartment.

The sun was only just starting to peek over the horizon as they stepped outside, the wind brisk and chilly on Daichi’s arms and face. _Probably because it’s five AM_ , Daichi thought with a shake of his head.

It was a good idea in theory. Kuroo had recently promoted him to manager at the bookstore he co-owned with his childhood friend Bokuto, and that meant his shifts had changed. Instead of afternoon closes, Daichi was now working morning opens and full day shifts. Before the promotion, he’d get whatever errands needed doing done during the morning, spend the afternoon at work, and then walk Meatball upon returning home in the evening. Now, with all the extra duties, he’d been finding himself too exhausted to do much when he got home, especially after a full day managing Hinata or Kageyama or Lev. So, he’d figured, getting up a little earlier in the mornings to walk Meatball before going in to work was the best solution.

It was a good idea in practice too. Meatball was getting her walks, and he could nap when he got home without guilt. The only problem was the ‘waking up earlier’ part. Sawamura Daichi, in his entire life, had never been a morning person. And even though he’d been at this for two weeks, only allowing himself to sleep in on the weekends, he didn’t anticipate he was about to become one.

But he had to admit, the city was very different at dawn than at dusk, and he didn’t dislike that at all. The colours were different; soft but bright compared to the muted tones of the evening. The people were different too – whereas he usually ran into kids and parents at the end of the day, or workers heading home, in the early mornings he found himself seeing fewer people, and of those, most seemed to be people running or jogging.

At least he always ran into other people walking their dogs, no matter the time. They were the most fun of any walk, and Meatball loved the attention from anyone and everyone. There were fewer in the mornings, but enough that he didn’t feel lonely.

It took about ten minutes to walk to the nearby park where Meatball could finally relieve herself and run around a little when Daichi let her leash out. There were a few teenage boys hanging around in the park this morning, which immediately put Daichi on edge – until their eyes lit up at the sight of Meatball and they spent five minutes lavishing her with pets and cuddles.

It was the rest of the walk that Daichi enjoyed the most – a relaxed half an hour wander, where he could enjoy the relative emptiness of the streets and the calm aura of a mostly-slumbering city. Sometimes he brought headphones and listened to music, and other times he didn’t bother, preferring to wake up with the rising sun and a coffee.

The coffee shop that sat at the halfway point of his walk, where he’d start to meander his way back home, was a godsend Daichi hadn’t been aware he needed. Not only did they allow pets in the small outdoor seating area, but they had some amazing coffee that kept him awake and sane as he dealt with the younger employees and their antics.

_At least Kenma-kun can manage himself, even if he does things at his own pace, and Inuoka-kun is legitimately trying his best to learn everything. The others might send me to an early grave._

As he turned the corner and sighted The Bean Room, a warm sense of satisfaction sank into Daichi’s skin. The smell was noticeable even down the street and he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes for a brief moment to imagine the coffee he was about to enjoy.

The coffee was great, the service was wonderful – the two baristas who worked the mornings were wild opposites but both fun to chat to – and he could sit outside in the warming sun with Meatball and take a moment to prepare himself for the day.

What could be better than that?

As Daichi opened his eyes again and came closer to the coffee shop, he realised there was, in fact, an answer to that rhetorical question.

And the answer was the man sat at one of the outdoor tables.

Daichi’s eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. He’d been down this route in the morning four times now, and countless times in the afternoon, and he’d never seen this man before. He took up one of the tables in the corner of the fenced-in seating area, near the pavement, an array of papers strewn about the table’s surface. He frowned as he nudged aside a laptop in order to search through them.

The rising sun always hit the coffee shop exterior beautifully at this time of the morning, casting the world in a wonderful glow, which was just another reason Daichi loved it. Now it was casting this beautiful man in that glow, his short silver-grey hair lit up warmly, pale skin bright, all of it complemented by the striking dark blue coat he wore.

Daichi had seen some absolutely beautiful people in his life – after all, Bokuto’s partner was an actual real-life model – but not even Akaashi Keiji’s dramatically arresting features outshone this gorgeous, _gorgeous_ man.

And it was while Daichi was contemplating how devastatingly pretty the man was that he walked directly into a lamppost.

The sudden shock and pain were enough to jolt him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He stumbled back a few paces, shaking his head and rubbing at his forehead where he’d made contact. At his heel, Meatball whined in confusion as to why they’d stopped. But for the moment, Daichi ignored her, focused on the more pressing issue at hand.

_Please, for the love of everything good, don’t let him have seen that._

He couldn’t bear to look up. Instead, he powerwalked the rest of the way to the coffee shop and then, rather than stopping for his usual fix, he continued straight past. As he walked past the stranger, barely a few feet apart, he risked a glance from the corner of his eye, and was relieved to see him still intent upon finding something within his multitude of papers.

Quickly, Daichi rounded the corner, and as soon as he was out of sight, he stopped to lean heavily on the wall of the closest building. His head spun, and it was only partly due to shaking his brain loose in his skull.

 _What if he_ had _seen that? I don’t think I could live with myself if he saw, if he knew I’d just walked straight into a pole because I was staring at him._

 _Oh, great, Kuroo-san’s going to have a field day with that_.

He contemplated _not_ telling his best friend about the incident. But with the way his head was throbbing, he had the feeling it was going to bruise, and then Kuroo was definitely going to ask questions, and Daichi had never been a very good liar.

And he didn’t even get to have his coffee.

Daichi sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and wincing at the tenderness of his forehead. He glanced at Meatball. The dog sat by his feet and stared up at him with her head tilted, almost as if to ask, _what did you go and do that for?_

“I don’t know,” he muttered, half to himself and half to the dog, which made it sound only half as crazy. “Come on, let’s get you home. I have to go to work and suffer.”

* * *

“You did _what_?” Kuroo snorted.

“Yeah, go on,” Daichi sighed, leaning against the counter. “Laugh, get it over with.”

“I just…” Kuroo shook with laughter. “Sawamura Daichi, the most put-together man I have ever met, the only person I know who actually has their shit one hundred percent in order, just walked right into a lamppost because he was checking out a pretty boy.”

A blush started to rise in Daichi’s cheeks as he stammered, “He wasn’t… _pretty_. I mean… he was… but…. not…”

“Oh, you have it _bad_.”

Kuroo patted his shoulder firmly, a mischievously kind smile curving his lips in a way only Kuroo Tetsurou could manage. Daichi shoved him off and reached under the counter to grab some of the paperwork that he knew wouldn’t have been completed last night.

 “Do you think you’ll see him again?” Kuroo asked slyly. “What if he becomes a regular?”

 Daichi swallowed hard at the thought. _How am I supposed to get my coffee if he’s going to be there every morning looking so… like_ that _?_ But he distracted himself – and Kuroo – by slapping the paperwork down on the counter and looking his boss-slash-friend in the eye. Kuroo winced.

 “Sorry, Koutarou came around in the afternoon and I got distracted.”

 “Yes, I heard,” Daichi said. “Inuoka-kun mentioned it. How do you think I knew you wouldn’t have done it?”

 “Dai-kun,” Kuroo said, folding his arms over his chest with a shake of his head. “On the one hand, I’m so glad I promoted you.”

 “I _was_ doing all the work of a manager anyway, just without the pay,” Daichi reminded him.

 “That… that’s true.”

 With a raised eyebrow, Daichi waited for him to continue his original thought. But as Kuroo bit his lip, squinting as he racked his brains, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

 “You forgot what you were saying, didn’t you.”

 “Yep.”

 “Moron. Something about how you’re glad you promoted me?”

 “Oh, yeah!” Kuroo brightened, grinning. “On the one hand, I’m glad I promoted you. On the other hand, sometimes it feels like you’re _my_ boss.”

 “You need it.”

 “That is also true.” Kuroo ruffled his fingers through Daichi’s hair, laughing as the other pushed him away. “I love you for it. You’re amazing.”

 He grabbed the paperwork from the counter. “I’m going to go do this in the office. Inuoka-kun finishes at twelve, Hinata-kun comes in at eleven thirty.”

 As he spoke, he made his way to the front door of the bookshop, unlocking it and flipping the sign in the window from CLOSED to OPEN.

 “Oh!” he called over his shoulder on his way to the back office, smirking. “Two things – if you ever see Pretty Boy again you have to tell me, and you also have to buy him a drink. Promise me, Dai-kun!”

 “I will not,” Daichi retorted.

 He turned away from Kuroo’s retreating figure, only to be met with Inuoka barely a foot behind him. He jumped back, yelping in surprise, and Inuoka flinched.

 “Sorry!” the younger man said, eyes wide with panic. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

 Daichi sighed. “It’s fine. What do you need?”

 “I-I can’t remember where these ones go,” Inuoka said, showing him the last few returned books from the previous day in his arms.

 As Daichi rattled off the sections for each of them, Kuroo’s laughter echoing from the back of the store, he groaned inwardly.

  _It’s going to be a long day_.

* * *

 

As it turned out, Pretty Boy was a regular – or, at least, the next three times Daichi walked past The Bean Room he was sat at the same table, with the same mess of papers and open laptop in front of him. Sometimes he had a coffee in front of him and he sipped at it absently as he worked. Each time, Daichi made sure to keep his head down, his grip tight on Meatball’s leash, and more importantly, his eyes on the pavement ahead of him.

Except for the few seconds he’d sneak a look at the gorgeous stranger out of the corner of his eyes as he passed him. The third time he walked past, he was startled to see the stranger glancing back at him, amber-brown eyes regarding him curiously before snapping back to his work. Daichi stumbled at the surprise and had to regain his composure around the corner, a fact Kuroo found absolutely hilarious.

The fourth morning, Friday morning, Daichi spent the whole walk to the coffee shop psyching himself up. He was _not_ going to walk past; he was going to go _inside_ the shop and he was going to buy himself a coffee. As he approached and once again saw the silver-haired stranger at his usual table, he nearly backed out - but then he remembered Hinata and Kageyama were rostered on, and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with the pair of them with no stimulant back up again. So, studiously avoiding eye contact, Daichi walked through the seating area, tied Meatball to the post by the shop door and went inside to order his drink.

Thankfully there wasn’t a line at the counter when he entered. The barista waiting near the register smiled when he saw him, greeting him with a soft, “Sawamura-san! I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Yeah, I’ve been… busy,” Daichi stumbled over his words, smiling even though he was sure it was coming across as awkward rather than cheerful.

“The usual?”

Daichi nodded.

He watched as the barista – tall and lanky, perpetually nervous, with long hair tied back in a bun – leaned over and called, “A large Sugar and Spice to go, please, Noya! Four extra sugars, for Sawamura-san!”

“You got it, Asahi!” the second barista, hidden by the machines he was working, replied loudly, followed by - “Wait, Sawamura-san?”

He poked his head out, brown eyes bright as he grinned. He brushed aside the blonde streak of hair that fell over his forehead, a stark contrast to the rest of his black hair that was spiked up and away from his face.

“You haven’t come in for nearly a week, Sawamura-san! I was beginning to think you changed your mind about our coffee!”

“Never,” Daichi chuckled. “You know your coffee is the only thing that keeps me going, Nishinoya-san.”

As he dug into his pocket for his wallet, he was suddenly struck by the suggestion Kuroo had brought up, and still continued to push.

_Buy him a drink. Promise me, Dai-kun!_

He glanced behind him. Through the large windows, he could see Meatball waiting patiently for him and beyond that, the beautiful stranger working hard, staring intently at his laptop as he typed at a lightning pace. Daichi swallowed hard and, quite before he realised he’d made up his mind, turned back to Asahi and asked, “Has the guy outside already bought a drink?”

Asahi cocked his head, but replied, “A while ago. Actually, it’s probably… about now that he’d be coming back in for his second. Why?”

“I… I wanna pay for his next drink.”

“Oooh,” Noya smirked, and Daichi wasn’t entirely sure how he was listening in on the conversation with the machines hissing and spitting at a hideously loud volume.

“I, uh, yeah, I can do that,” Asahi mumbled, adding a second drink to Daichi’s total. “He always gets the same drink, so it’s easy.” Then, louder, he said, “Noya, do you want to get started on the Tall, Dark, and Roasted for him? I don’t think it’ll be long before he comes in to order.”

“One TDR, coming right up!” Noya said as he placed a drink down at the other end of the counter. “And one Sugar and Spice, four extra sugars, ready to go!”

Daichi quickly paid for both drinks before collecting his own. Just as he turned to go, he paused and looked back.

“Could you… could you not tell him who paid for it?”

Noya frowned, but his “Aww, that’s no fun,” was drowned out by the machines and Asahi’s slightly nervous confirmation.

“Um, sure, we can do that. We’ll just… tell him someone paid it forward?”

“Thank you.”

Daichi made his way to the door, clutching his drink close to his chest. _Okay, maybe it isn’t exactly what Kuroo-san had in mind, but it’s something._ He stepped outside and untied Meatball’s leash. Meatball gave a happy little yap at his return, pawing at his leg until Daichi gently told her to stop.

The last hurdle was leaving the seating area and getting back to their walk. He employed the same methods he’d been using the past few days – head down, eyes on the path ahead. Just as he stepped out from the fenced-in area and out onto the pavement, movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he glanced back.

The stranger had closed his laptop and was getting up from the table. For a split-second he looked up and met Daichi’s eye. He smiled, a friendly and easy little smile, before turning away to enter the coffee shop. Daichi was glad beyond glad that the man looked away so quickly – his heartbeat fluttered wildly and he missed his next step, stumbling into the low fence and scraping his shin against it. Cursing himself silently, he steadied himself and made a quick getaway, dragging Meatball down the street and around the corner.

_You, Sawamura Daichi, are absolutely fucking useless._

* * *

“You, Sawamura Daichi, are _absolutely fucking_ _useless_.”

“I’m injured, leave me alone.”

Kuroo leaned back in his chair, ignoring the paperwork on the desk in front of him to roll his eyes and laugh.

“You… you fell into the fence, which is funny enough on its own, but you bought him a drink and _didn’t tell him_!?”

In the office doorway, arms folded against his chest, Daichi couldn’t help but smirk, despite the embarrassment coursing through him and the throbbing in his shin. “Hey, you never said that was a required part of buying him a drink.”

“I swear, Dai-kun, you’re going to be the death of me. If you don’t kill yourself first.”

“Let him take things at his own pace, Kuroo-san.”

Daichi turned to see the owner of the voice that sounded behind him, and smiled.

“Akaashi-san,” he said, and moved out of the doorway.

Akaashi smiled back at him. Kuroo snorted and leaned further back in the chair, tipping it onto its back legs. He propped himself up with one foot on the desk, looking for all the world like one of the headache-inducing employees Daichi had to manage rather than the co-owner of the business.

“It’s stupid, Keiji,” Kuroo said. “How’s this guy supposed to realise that Dai-kun’s interested in him if he’s being all secretive about it?”

“He won’t,” Akaashi said simply. He was wearing the loose, casual, soft-coloured clothes he usually wore before heading to a shoot, and he rolled his sleeves up as he continued, “But courting someone takes a lot of courage. And time. Let him take it at his own pace.”

“See, this is why I love you, man,” Kuroo said. “You use words like ‘courting’ seriously.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. Kuroo grinned.

“What are we talking about?” A new voice piped up, and Daichi looked behind Akaashi to see Bokuto approaching.

“Dai-kun being an idiot,” Kuroo said at the same time as an almighty screech echoed from the front of the store, ending in a shouted, “Bakageyama!”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Daichi said.

He nodded to Akaashi and Bokuto before slipping away to deal with whatever havoc Hinata and Kageyama were wreaking. He could hear Kuroo laughing as he started to tell Bokuto the story, and he sighed. But at least he seemed to have someone on his side in Akaashi.

_I’ll just keep doing things at my own pace, whatever Kuroo-san says. Things will work out in the end. Right?_

* * *

The weekend was rough. He slept in on Saturday, too exhausted to do anything else, but then he spent the rest of the day wondering if the stranger would have been at the coffee shop again. So he woke up early on Sunday morning, despite telling himself it was a stupid idea, and walked his weekday route.

He hated that he was right. When The Bean Room came into view, the stranger did not. Daichi tried to curb his disappointment, buying himself and Meatball a treat from a very sweet and cheery blonde woman he didn’t recognise, but it didn’t help.

When Monday rolled around again, a full week since he’d first seen the stranger, Daichi followed his usual routine and was thrilled to see him hard at work again – even if he could barely look at him for fear of making eye contact. When he ordered his coffee, he confidently asked to pay for the stranger’s again. When Noya giggled and asked if they were still supposed to keep it secret, his confidence started to wane, and he gave a shaky reply that yes, the man wasn’t to know. By the time he walked out, he was a nervous wreck all over again.

At least the stranger didn’t look at him, meaning he didn’t fall into a fence or walk into a pole or trip over his own stupid feet.

He didn’t intend for it to become a routine for so long. Every time he ordered his drink, and Asahi asked if he was paying for two, he said yes with the whole-hearted desire that this was going to be the day he stopped hiding. That this was it. He was finally going to buy the stranger a drink and the man would know it was from him and maybe, _maybe_ they could even _talk_. And then Asahi would ask if he was paying it forward or attaching a name, and every time he panicked. Every time he stumbled over his words and meekly mumbled that it was to be paid forward. Every time he walked back out of the coffee shop, his own drink warm against his palm and heart pounding a million miles an hour, and he’d determinedly avoid looking up at the stranger, and he’d spend the rest of the day miserable as Kuroo laughed at him.

He truly, honestly, didn’t intend for it to go on as long as it did. But then, one Thursday morning on the way to The Bean Room, he realised he’d been buying the beautiful, wondrous, _gorgeous_ stranger a drink every work day for nearly two weeks straight and he _really_ needed to get his shit together.

 _Come on, Daichi_. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. _You can do this. It’s becoming weird now. You either have to talk to him, or stop buying him drinks and stop thinking about him._

Kuroo had said something similar the day before, in the quiet time they had to themselves before the shop opened. He hated to admit Kuroo was right, but… Kuroo was right.

_The longer you drag this out, the harder it’ll be._

He turned the corner, the clip of Meatball’s leash jingling against her collar as she trotted by his side. In the near distance he could see the stranger at his usual table, shuffling through some papers with a pen between his teeth, and Daichi’s heart fluttered.

He was reminded of one of the numerous conversations he’d had with Kuroo, one that had happened earlier in the week and that he still hadn’t been able to get out of his mind. They’d been in the small back office before opening, Kuroo with his legs crossed in his chair as he finished up the paperwork on time for once, and Daichi leaning against the desk with arms folded.

_“Kuroo-san… what if he’s already taken? I don’t… I’ve been trying so badly to get his attention that I… I didn’t even consider someone else might have it.”_

_“You’re not going to know unless you try, are you?”_

_“I just…” A sigh. “He’s so pretty, y’know? No one can be that beautiful and single.”_

_“He could be a psycho. Who knows?”_

_“Kuroo-san.”_

_A laugh. “I’m just saying. And anyway, you look like_ that _and you’re single.”_

_“Fuck off.”_

_“I’m serious! You’re hot, man. You can trust me on that, I’m a great judge of attractiveness.”_

_Another sigh. “You know how Akaashi-san is just… pretty? He doesn’t even try. He’s just… like that.”_

_“Effortless? Yeah, I hate it.”_

_“Exactly. This guy is_ effortlessly _beautiful. I can’t…”_

 _A hand on his elbow, comforting. “Don’t put yourself down. I’m sure he’s amazing, but so are you._ However _, nothing’s going to happen if you don’t_ do _anything. You’ve gotta talk to him, Dai-kun. Or you’re going to be stuck in this weird pay-it-forward limbo forever, and that’s not healthy for you, your bank account, or me.”_

_"You?”_

_"Hey, I’m having to watch you mope consistently every time you don’t talk to him. It’s hard seeing you be this stupid.”_

_“I don’t know why I tell you anything.”_

_"Because I give great advice. You should try listening to it once in a while.”_

“Hello?”

Daichi blinked, glancing in the direction of the gentle, confused voice that had interrupted his recollection.

And nearly had a heart attack when he realised he was standing in front of the stranger’s table.

_When did I get here? Why did I stop? How long have I been standing here like some creepy stalker?_

“Uh…”

_Fuck, why doesn’t my mouth work? Why do I get all stupid and dizzy when I see him? Why do I have to suffer like this?_

The stranger smiled, sending Daichi’s heart into a flurry of beats and misbeats.

“Are you alright? Do you need something?”

_Now’s your chance, Daichi. You have the opportunity to talk to him – now do it!_

Daichi rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, his other tightening around Meatball’s leash. He stammered, stumbled, and then suddenly the words fell out of their own accord and entirely without permission.

“Um… uh… c-could you watch my dog for me?”

_Slow clap, Daichi. Way to fucking go._

The man frowned, but shrugged. “I, uh, I guess? Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m getting a coffee. I-I’ll get one for you too, to say thanks. For watching my dog.”

 _Shut up shut up shut up shut UP_.

“Oh, you don’t have to…”

But Daichi didn’t stick around to hear the rest. He jammed Meatball’s leash into the other’s hand, his skin burning at every point of contact, spun on his heel, and all but ran into the coffee shop.

 _What the_ fuck _was that!?_

“Sawamura-san?”

Standing just inside the shop, whole body trembling, Daichi looked up at the concerned Asahi and shocked Noya behind the counter.

“Sawamura-san?” Asahi asked again, slightly louder this time.

Shakily, he made his way to the counter. In amidst his internal screaming, he thanked every god and spirit imaginable that there was only one other person in the café – one who, after shooting him a confused look, returned to their drink and ignored him.

“You talked to him!” Noya bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning widely.

Asahi dropped his volume again to ask, “Are you alright?”

“I… I…”

“What did you say?” Noya’s grin dropped, replaced by a frown. “What did he say? What happened?”

Daichi collapsed against the counter and moaned, rather like the dying animal he wished he was right now rather than someone who’d just royally screwed up his chances with the most beautiful person on the planet.

“Oh no,” Asahi murmured.

“I don’t know what came over me.” Daichi pushed himself off the counter, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t… why did I say that, why did I… that was the _worst_ excuse…”

“What did you _say_?” Noya asked.

“I asked him to watch my dog for me.” Daichi cringed as he said it. “Not like I haven’t just been tying her up outside for the past _ever_.”

“Oh no,” Asahi said again.

Noya grimaced. “Not the smoothest line you could have used.”

Daichi stared at him and something suddenly clicked in his brain.

“Oh fuck, I have to go back out there. No. No, I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can,” Asahi said gently, but Daichi shook his head.

“I’d rather die. Can’t I just die in here instead?”

“Not a chance.” Noya patted his shoulder before disappearing behind the coffee machines. “What are you getting? Usual, I assume?”

“Don’t do this to me. Just kill me.”

Asahi bit his lip. “Look, you messed up a little bit, but y-you could have said worse! And if he likes you, then this shouldn’t put him off. Hopefully?”

“Fuck me,” Daichi mumbled.

Asahi was right, of course. He could have messed up a lot worse, although not knowing how long he’d been standing there like some creepy stalker was stuck in the back of his mind.

First Kuroo, now Asahi – why did everyone seem to know what was going on better than he did?

A takeaway coffee cup was placed in front of him, and Daichi stared at it for a moment before looking up at the person pushing it towards him. Noya smirked. He glanced between the drink and Daichi, and then behind him to the door.

“Go on, then.”

“I…”

_As much as you want to, you can’t hide in here forever. You have to suck it up, Sawamura. At the very least, you have to get your dog back._

He took a deep breath. “I said I’d get him…”

Noya placed a full mug in front of him, his smirk growing into a grin. Daichi shook his head, reaching for his wallet, but Noya stopped him.

“On the house,” he said. “Go, catch yourself a man.”

Daichi snorted despite himself. Carefully he picked up the two drinks and, steeling himself, made his way back outside.

He approached the stranger’s table hesitantly. The man didn’t even see him until he was right beside him, too busy with petting and talking to the dog in his lap.

“Who’s a beautiful puppy?” he said in a babyish voice. “Who’s a good puppy? You are!”

Meatball yapped excitedly, pawing at the stranger’s shirt. He laughed and rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks.

Daichi nervously cleared his throat. He was already shaking and he only hoped the stranger didn’t notice.

_No backing out of this._

The man glanced up and smiled.

“Oh, thank you!” he said, moving some of his papers aside for his drink. “You really didn’t have to though.”

Daichi placed the mug down gently, wary of spilling it on his work. He laughed awkwardly and, focusing on the coffee in his hands, said “Well, you didn’t have to look after my dog.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Daichi looked up, meeting the stranger’s amber gaze – filled with amusement, a smile on his face.

“Would you like to sit down?”

Daichi swallowed hard.

“If… if you want me to…”

The man laughed. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

Heart thundering, Daichi pulled out the chair opposite and settled himself as best he could, which wasn’t easy when all his muscles were tense with worry.

_I can’t mess this up. Don’t do anything embarrassing!_

“Thank you again, for the coffee,” the stranger said, reaching around the dog still perched in his lap to grab the mug and take a sip. “You know, I’ve never met a mind reader before.”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“I didn’t even tell you what I wanted, and you still managed to get me the right drink.” He placed the mug back down before tucking a lock of silver hair back behind his ear. “I seem to be very lucky that way – I’ve had someone paying forward the same drink for me for nearly two weeks now.”

Daichi was trapped in his eyes, bright and laughing and pointedly fixed on him. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, the other clutching his drink tightly.

“I…I, uh, I… yeah, that… that was… me…” he finished lamely. He tried to smile, but wasn’t sure if it came out genuinely or more like he was constipated, as Kuroo had once so delicately put it.

“I’m aware,” the stranger said drily, chuckling. “You know, you could have just… talked to me.” In a split-second, his smile dropped. “Not that I’m not grateful! I am! I’m very grateful for all the coffee you bought me, it was wonderful and a very sweet thought! Please don’t think I don’t appreciate it!”

Daichi laughed, properly this time, and the man stopped with an embarrassed smile.

“I, uh, I’m glad you appreciated it. And I’m sorry for not… you know, not talking to you.”

“I understand. I’m just glad you did eventually decide to.”

“You’re very pretty.”

_For the love of..._

“Thank you,” the stranger giggled.

“I-I mean, ah!” Daichi cringed. “I just, I mean, it’s very – it’s intimidating… that’s… that’s why…”

“I’m intimidating?”

Daichi looked up at him meekly. “You’re very pretty. It… it catches me off guard.”

“Off guard, hey? Is that why you’ve been tripping and running into things whenever you come by here?”

Despite the fact the man was smiling, Daichi’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He thought back in horror to all the times he’d stumbled, floundered helplessly, and otherwise made an utter fool of himself. It felt like there were too many to count at this point, and they flashed through his mind like a never-ending parade of embarrassment.

“You… you saw that?”

The stranger laughed. “It was a little hard not to notice. Especially when you ran into the lamppost.”

Daichi groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. Kuroo never letting him forget what an idiot he was? He could live with that. But the most beautiful person on the planet had seen him in all his stupid glory and there was no way he was going to be able to continue living with _that_ humiliation.

“No, it’s cute!” the man said earnestly. “I sort of… found myself looking forward to seeing you each morning.”

Daichi looked up, still wincing, and was surprised to see the other blushing. He hid it well, looking down at the dog sat comfortably in his lap and lavishing her with attention, refusing eye contact, but the colour in his cheeks was unmistakable.

“You, uh, you’ve been a wonderful distraction these past few weeks.”

The man gestured to the laptop and various pieces of paper and stationery strewn across the table. Daichi tried to focus on what was written on them, but most seemed to be in an incomprehensible scrawl, and he was too intent upon the idea that just as much as he’d been eyeing the stranger, the stranger been eyeing _him_.

_He really paid attention to me?_

Daichi blinked the thought away and instead asked, “What are you working on?”

The man’s face lit up at the question, but just as quickly his expression fell again, replaced with a fidgety indifference.

“I’m writing a novel.” He shrugged. “It’s not as exciting as it sounds. It’s for a teenage audience. Love story and all that. I won’t bore you with it.”

“No, it sounds interesting,” Daichi replied genuinely. He didn’t know a single thing about writing, novels or otherwise, but he did appreciate a good book, and the dismissive tone of the other’s response concerned him. It sounded like ‘not exciting’ was a criticism he’d heard more than once before.

The man tilted his head curiously, before smiling widely. “Really?”

“Absolutely. Tell me.”

The man eagerly launched into the story’s explanation, speaking with his hands as much as with his words, and Daichi rested his chin on his palm, elbow on the table, to watch and listen intently.

“It’s called ‘Yours and Mine’. The main characters are two boys from schools that have an intense rivalry, and they fully endorse that rivalry. One’s the captain of their school’s volleyball team, and one’s the captain of the swim team, and they’re constantly competing. The school rivalry means that they refuse to even see each other as potential friends, but everyone around them can see they have so much in common and would get along if they stopped being so stubborn, and so they actively try to contrive situations for them to be alone together.”

The stranger laughed self-consciously, looking down at Meatball and scratching her behind the ears. “Lots of silly humour and comedy, of course, and then they end up falling in love.”

He smiled, gentle and embarrassed. Daichi couldn’t help but smile softly himself. _He’s so_ cute _, this is insane._

“That sounds -”

The accursed jingle of Daichi’s ringtone sounded from his pocket.

 _You have_ got _to be kidding me_.

“Do you need to get that?” the man asked.

Daichi closed his eyes for a moment, inwardly cursing out the person who had the audacity to interrupt. Then he put his coffee down and yanked his phone out to check the caller ID – Kuroo.

“I’m so sorry, it’s my boss, it might be important.” He stood up and stepped away a few paces. “Hold that thought, I won’t be long.”

With a sigh, he picked up the call. “Kuroo-san, this had better be important.”

“Uh, yeah, um…”

Immediately Daichi frowned. Kuroo sounded more distracted than usual, and in the background, he could hear a tangled mess of other people loudly talking.

“What’s going on?”

“Um, I need you to come in like, now. Hinata-kun and Kenma were walking to work together and Kenma dropped his PSP in the road, and Hinata-kun tried to run back and get it before it got run over and… well, he kinda got hit by a car?”

“ _What do you mean he kind of got hit by a car!?_ ”

“He’s fine! We think. He seems fine. The car was slowing down anyway, it barely touched him, honestly, but I’m taking him and Kenma to the hospital just in case, so I need you to get here as soon as you can and take care of as much of the opening stuff as you can, and run the place until I can call someone else in to help. Please?”

“O-Of course, I’m walking Meatball at the moment, I’ll go home and get changed and be there as soon as I can. Is everyone okay?”

Kuroo sighed. “Yeah, I think so. Kenma seems more shaken up than Hinata-kun does, to be honest.”

“Okay.” Daichi ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Keep me updated.”

He hung up and turned back to the stranger, biting his lip. The silver-haired man looked at him with concern, one eyebrow raised.

“Someone got hit by a car!?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, one of the people I work with. He was walking to work with someone else and my boss is taking them both to hospital. Apparently they’re fine, it’s just to make sure that that’s the case. I have to open the store alone, so I have to go…”

“Of course!” The man carefully shifted Meatball off his lap, adjusting her collar before handing over the leash. “I hope everyone is alright!”

“I-I’m so sorry to have to just… run like this…”

“No, no, you need to go. But… I hope this isn’t the last we’ll see of each other?”

A stuttered, awkward, laugh escaped Daichi at the thought that the guy actually wanted to see him again, after the absolute fool he’d made of himself. ‘O-Of course! I mean, I definitely… I definitely want to see you again. I’ll be back.”

“Good. Don’t forget your coffee!”

Daichi scooped up his drink, shoving his phone back in his pocket and wrapping the excess of Meatball’s leash around his palm. “I-I’ll see you around!”

He stumbled backwards as turned to leave and, in the confusion, tripped over his own feet. Somehow, perhaps through divine intervention, he managed to keep his balance and, with an embarrassed look back at the giggling, beautiful man he’d finally, _finally_ , managed to talk to, he made his way down the pavement and around the corner towards home.

* * *

If the morning of Hinata’s accident had been a comedy of errors, then the days following were nothing short of a Greek tragedy.

With no one able to come in early, Daichi was left alone with the store until Lev showed up for his mid-afternoon start, bearing gifts of the hot food variety for his superior in apology. Daichi, who hadn’t been able to find a decent moment to rest and eat until then, scarfed the food down gratefully – only to end up hunched over his toilet hours later with the worst case of food poisoning he’d suffered since he’d been dared to eat a four-month-old sandwich from the back of his high school friend’s fridge.

He’d offered to open the next day despite still feeling queasy, but Kuroo was adamant about him taking the day off. So he’d laid in bed for most of the day, allowing his stomach muscles to recover whilst thinking of nothing else but the fact he hadn’t been able to go to the coffee shop that morning.

 _You didn’t even get his name. You idiot, Daichi. You didn’t get a name, a phone number, anything. He was probably waiting for you this morning, and you couldn’t tell him you weren’t coming because you didn’t think to ask for a_ fucking _phone number._

It wasn’t until three in the afternoon that the sudden thought occurred to him to call the coffee shop itself. Frantically, he Googled the number and called four times until someone finally picked up.

“Hello, you’ve reached The Bean Room, this is Tsukishima Kei speaking.”

“Hi, my name’s Sawamura Dai -”

“Oh, it’s you,” the bored voice interrupted. “Yeah, Nishinoya-san said that if I saw you, I had to tell you that the guy showed up.”

“How long did he wait?” Daichi asked weakly.

“Until about nine,” Tsukishima said. “He looked real disappointed when he left, apparently. Barely even touched his drink. Got you one too.”

Daichi’s heart sank. “Are you working tomorrow? When he comes in, tell him I’ll be there. I promise. I’ll be there.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Nishinoya-san said he never comes in on the weekend.”

The fact that the man didn’t frequent The Bean Room on the weekend didn’t stop Daichi from showing up anyway, hoping beyond hope that when he turned the corner, he’d see the beautiful man at his usual table. But the table was empty on Saturday morning, and occupied by a young woman absorbed in a book on Sunday. Each time Daichi couldn’t bring himself to actually enter the shop, and he left as quickly as he’d arrived.

By Monday, Daichi was determined to get there as early as possible and wait for the man. He wasn’t going to give him a second to think that he wouldn’t show up. He got to the coffee shop as Asahi and Noya were opening, and they encouraged him with a pat on the back, his and the stranger’s drinks on the house, a treat for Meatball, and an extra shot of espresso in his Sugar and Spice.

Daichi waited. He waited as the sun rose slowly over the horizon, as more people came and went with their coffees and pastries and smiles, until the alarm on his phone sounded to remind him he had very little time to get home and change for work.

He waited a few minutes more, just in case.

Kuroo stared at him in shock when he finally walked into the book shop.

“You’re fifteen minutes late.”

“Sorry, I… got caught up with something.”

“Daichi,” Kuroo said, and Daichi knew he was being serious, because that was the only time Kuroo ever used his actual given name. “You’ve never once been late in the entire time I’ve known you. What’s wrong? Are you still sick? Should you even be here right now?”

“Kuroo-san, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Daichi said. “I’m fine, I just had something I had to do.”

It wasn’t until Wednesday, after two more mornings of cold coffee and hours of waiting, that he finally told Kuroo what had happened. He hadn’t planned to, rather hoping that he could put off dealing with the inevitable, but then a teenage girl with striking grey hair had nervously asked him if they had a queer literature section, and suddenly Daichi found himself so overwhelmed that he stammered out a direction to ask Kenma before running for the back office and its offer of privacy.

It wasn’t private but in fact an audience of one. Daichi slammed the door behind him and Kuroo nearly fell out of his chair in surprise.

“Daichi, are you…” He paused. “You’re hiding something from me. You don’t have to tell me, but please, know that I’m here for you. As a friend, not your boss.”

Daichi didn’t say anything. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. He leaned back heavily against the door, praying for its solidity and strength to seep through into him.

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with your Pretty Boy, would it?”

And that was it. The floodgates opened and Daichi spent the next twenty minutes ugly crying on the floor of the office, as Kuroo tried his best to comfort him. He told him the whole story, from its wonderful and hopeful start to hideously bitter end. And when he was done, Kuroo, cross-legged in front of him, grabbed him by the shoulders firmly.

“Daichi, I know this sucks. I know this sucks so, so much. And I’m sorry. I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need; I got you.”

He ruffled Daichi’s hair, and Daichi smacked his hand away, but with less conviction than usual.

“Go home,” Kuroo said. “We’re fine here without you. Take the rest of the week off, take that time to work through all these emotions – _don’t_ go back to that coffee shop, whatever you do – and come back next week hopefully feeling better.”

“I-I can’t –”

“You can, because even though it sometimes feels like you’re _my_ boss, it’s actually the other way around, and I get to decide what happens around here, okay?”

“But…”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, his smile soft. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Get out of here.”

And that was how Daichi found himself laying on the couch on Thursday afternoon, one week exactly since he’d spoken to the beautiful man at the coffee shop, staring up at the ceiling and wondering just how he’d managed to screw things up so badly.

He sighed, throwing one arm over his face. His usual alarm had woken him around dawn, and he’d spent fifteen minutes wrestling with the decision as to whether to go to the coffee shop again or not. His heart told him to go; what if today was the day the stranger finally went back and he _missed_ him? But Kuroo’s words echoed in his head, and he knew the likelihood of the man being there was slim to none.

He knew it was over.

So instead of leaving the apartment, he’d spent twenty minutes sitting in the shower with a playlist Akaashi had sent him the previous night echoing off the bathroom tiles. It was a calm playlist, smooth and easy to listen to, with very little obvious emotion for Daichi to project onto. He assumed it meant Akaashi knew what was going on, and he would have thought Kuroo had told him if Akaashi wasn’t the type of person to just somehow know these things.

He’d fed Meatball, reluctantly fed himself, and then collapsed on the couch to spend the rest of the day mindlessly scrolling through his phone and flipping through channels. From under his arm, he could hear the slightly muffled sounds of a G movie he’d seen a hundred times before playing, and he started mouthing the lines to himself.

_This is what I’m reduced to. Crying on the floor, moping around the apartment, and mocking a fifty-year-old movie. I only fucking talked to him once. Pathetic._

A whine at his side dragged his attention away from his self-loathing. He shifted his arm to see Meatball sitting by the side of the couch, looking up at him mournfully.

“Hey, girl,” Daichi sighed. “Sorry you don’t get your walk this morning. I’ll try to take you out tonight, okay?”

Meatball yapped. She pawed at his shoulder a few times, and when Daichi gently pushed her away, she jumped up onto his stomach. He gasped as she stood with her front paws digging harshly just under his ribs and her back paws sinking into his gut.

“Meatball!”

With a whine, she laid down, crawling her way further down his chest to rest her snout on his sternum. Daichi huffed out a breath, scratching behind her ears.

“You know something’s up, don’t you?”

Something started to vibrate beneath him and for a moment Daichi was startled, before realising it was his phone. Meatball’s ears perked up and she wagged her tail, excited by the prospect of something happening. It took Daichi a moment to fish the phone out from under him, trying not to jostle her too much, and when he finally got hold of it, he quickly checked the caller ID before answering.

“Hey, Kuroo-san.”

“Dai-kun!” Kuroo said cheerfully. “Just thought I’d check in and see how my favourite manager is doing.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, returning to scratching behind Meatball’s ears. “I’m fine, Kuroo-san. You have things you need to be doing, I’m sure; you don’t need to be wasting time calling me.”

“You’re my friend,” Kuroo replied. “And I’m worried about you. Besides, Kenma’s doing an admirable job in your absence. I should promote him too.”

“I thought you weren’t going to promote your boyfriend? You know, nepotism and all that.”

Kuroo snorted dismissively. “He wouldn’t accept a promotion if I offered anyway. But we’re not talking about Kenma. We’re talking about you.”

“You’re the one who brought him up,” Daichi said with a short laugh.

He stroked Meatball’s neck as he spoke, scratching around her collar. She wagged her tail enthusiastically, pushing up into his fingers for maximum enjoyment. As he brushed over her collar, Daichi felt the edge of something somewhat sharp and he frowned. Carefully, he sat up a little, jamming the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could hold Meatball still with one hand and inspect the object properly.

“You still there?” Kuroo said.

Daichi blinked. “Sorry?”

“I was saying how Koutarou was asking about you; he’s noticed you were acting weird. I was expecting some comment about how you’re surprised he notices anything at all.”

“You’re not wrong,” Daichi said. “Sorry, I got distracted. There’s some… paper, or something, stuck to Meatball’s collar.”

“Nice to know I’m less interesting than a bit of paper,” Kuroo laughed.

Daichi unravelled the paper – it was wrapped quite a few times around the collar, blending in well with the white leather. With a frown, he stretched it out and realised there was writing on it.

His heart dropped through the floor.

“Dai-kun, you’ve gone all quiet again,” Kuroo said. “You still there?”

“Kuroo-san.” Daichi could barely get the words out, strangled by the horror that was crushing him. “Kuroo-san, I fucked up.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong, Daichi. None of this is your fault. Things like this happen, you know? And there’s nothing you can do to change the outcome. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“It’s a phone number.”

“… what?”

“Kuroo-san, it’s a phone number.” Daichi’s head was spinning and he was sure he was speaking too fast, but he couldn’t stop. “The paper on Meatball’s collar, it’s got a phone number on it, and oh, fuck, it’s got a name. It’s got a name, Kuroo-san, it… I messed up, I messed up so bad.”

“Wait…” He could almost imagine Kuroo’s face, screwed up in utter confusion, one eyebrow raised, leaning back in his chair in the office with his feet on the desk. “Are you saying… that’s the guy’s phone number? Pretty Boy?”

“He was holding Meatball, oh my… he was holding Meatball for ages, he put his number on her collar, _and I didn’t know_.” Daichi’s heart thundered, he couldn’t breathe. “He was probably waiting for me to call, or text, and I didn’t; Kuroo-san, this is all my fault. He thinks I ignored him; he thinks…”

“Daichi!” Kuroo half-yelled. “Calm down! This is great news!”

“ _How is this great news!?_ ”

“It means you have a way to contact him! I mean, there’s no guarantee he’s willing to listen, but you’ve got a chance!”

_You’ve got a chance._

Daichi stared at Meatball. She stared back, deep brown-black eyes eager.

“What are you still doing on the phone?” Kuroo demanded. “I’m hanging up now. Call him!”

“I… I’ll call him.”

“Atta boy!” Kuroo laughed. “Good luck!”

The line went dead, but it was a long few seconds before Daichi pulled the phone away from his ear. He looked down at the paper in his hand, read the chunky script with the phone number and the man’s name.

_Suga <3_

_You have a chance, Daichi. Don’t throw it away._

He dialled the number. Hands shaking, he put the phone back to his ear and waited.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And –

_Hi, you’ve reached Sugawara Koushi! I wish I could answer your call, but I can’t at the moment. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!_

There was a pause, and then a beep. In a slight panic, Daichi hung up. He stared at his phone, thoughts whirling.

_Leave a message. Then it’s up to him. Let’s be honest, this is the best outcome, right? Would you even be able to talk to him if he picked up?_

Daichi rang the number again. He was somewhat afraid that Suga – _Suga, his name’s Suga_ – would answer this time, but the call rang out once again, and this time, taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

* * *

“Koushi, you need to stop moping.”

Suga, face down in the couch, muttered, “I’m not moping.”

When he didn’t hear a response, he rolled onto his back and glared up at his housemate. Oikawa, leaning over the back of the couch, looked back with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“Sure. You haven’t left the house in a week except to go to work. You haven’t been doing any of your writing. And you’ve cried at least four times about this whole ordeal. But no, you’re not moping.”

“ _You’re_ not helping.”

Oikawa shrugged helplessly. “What can I say? I already told you he’s a bastard, has no taste, and deserves every bad thing that ever happens to him. It’s not your fault he didn’t show up and didn’t text you.”

Suga groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “It’s not fair!”

He’d found The Bean Room early one morning while scouting for a place to write. He worked afternoons and weekends, and it was too distracting to write at home, so the peace and tranquillity of the coffee shop at dawn had been a godsend. And then the very first day he’d settled himself down at one of the outdoor tables, as he’d been sorting through the timeline for the book, Gorgeous Pole Guy had appeared and… well, run into a pole.

Suga had done his best to make sure the guy didn’t know his mistake had been witnessed. He could only imagine how humiliated he’d be. But notice it he had, and he’d promptly told Oikawa all about it that evening.

When he’d received the first paid-forward drink, he’d thought it was incredibly sweet. Every time the man had scurried past him to get into the shop, and left just as quickly, he’d wanted to stop him to at least thank him. Best case scenario, get his number. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Obviously the guy was trying his best, and he seemed so hopelessly shy, that Suga hadn’t wanted to embarrass him any further by bringing it to his attention that he knew who was buying him the drinks. Two weeks of free drinks and no sign of the guy even being capable of approaching him, and the gesture had gone from incredibly sweet to endearingly stupid.

Actually talking to him didn’t change Suga’s mind on his stupidity at all. He was dumb, adorably so, trying so hard to hold a conversation without stammering or falling over his words, and Suga loved it. And he loved the stupid dog too, with the adoring gaze and desperate need for attention.

He’d been so excited all of Thursday, gushing about his plans with Gorgeous Pole Guy to Oikawa as soon as he’d gotten home. Friday morning he’d woken earlier than usual, almost vibrating with energy and anticipation. He’d showed up, gotten them both drinks – he figured it was only fair he do so, although the baristas had insisted on giving them to him for free – and waited.

And Gorgeous Pole Guy hadn’t shown.

He’d been disappointed, but hoped he’d still hear from him later. He thought his trick with the phone number on the dog’s collar was pretty smart – he’d scrawled his number quickly while the guy had been on the phone, suspecting he may not have the chance to speak to him for much longer. But no matter how many times he checked his phone over the weekend, he didn’t receive a single text or call from his mysterious stranger. When Monday had rolled around, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to go back to the coffee shop – and every day since he’d had the same struggle.

_So that’s it, right? He didn’t show up, and didn’t contact you. So, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. That’s all there is to it. Even if he did say you were pretty, and seemed thrilled at the thought of seeing you again…_

He shook his head and groaned again.

“It’s no use torturing yourself,” Oikawa said matter-of-factly.

“Says you,” Suga muttered, “who cried at all hours for days on end when Iwa-chan was busy with exams and couldn’t talk to you.”

“That’s different!” Oikawa smacked his arm, earning him a glare. “Iwa-chan and I were dating and he ghosted me. You and Pole Guy aren’t dating. You don’t even know his name!”

Suga whined, “ _I don’t even know his name_.”

“So there’s no point moping about it! If he wanted anything to do with you, he would have shown up last week or he would have gotten in contact with you. Now, get off the couch. You’re coming with me.”

Suga squinted at him. “Where?”

“I’m taking you out. You deserve it.”

“Like in a hang-out kind of way, or a murder kind of way? I’d prefer the latter.”

“You stop that.” Oikawa pouted. “You’re not allowed to be more dramatic than me.”

With a snort of laughter, Suga sat up. From his back pocket, his phone started to ring. For a moment he considered answering it, but figured it would most likely be his boss asking him to come in for an extra shift, and if Oikawa had plans for him then nothing was going to change his mind – work schedule be damned. So he pulled his phone out and muted the call before tossing it onto the couch to listen to Oikawa’s ideas for the rest of the afternoon.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we check out that new dessert place a few blocks over. You know, the one Mattsun said does really good mochi? And then some good old-fashioned retail therapy, and if we’re still out around dinner time, then we could go get food somewhere. We could try a new place, or just go to the restaurant and see Iwa-chan? He’s working tonight.”

“Sounds great,” Suga said genuinely. As much as he wanted to lay around and be miserable for the next hundred years, Oikawa _was_ very good at lifting his spirits, and he was mildly interested in the mochi side quest.

Oikawa clapped. “Alright then! Go put some decent clothes on and we’ll go now!”

“What do you mean?” Suga joked, tugging on his old, stained, comfort sweatshirt. “These are my best clothes.”

“You know I won’t be seen in public with you looking like some garbage-dwelling rat,” Oikawa said dismissively. “Go on!”

Suga rolled his eyes and got up from the couch. His phone had stopped ringing, and he left it there as he went to his bedroom to change. He took a few minutes to choose something nice, as he knew if he returned to the living room looking only halfway decent, Oikawa would just send him back to try again. When he finally did make it back to the living room, one pair of skinny jeans, one button-up shirt, and one dark blue coat later, Oikawa was sat on the couch finishing up a text.

“Iwa-chan said we better not show up to his work again or he’ll kill us, but I know he’s not serious,” he said with a smirk. “Oh, and your phone rang again.”

Suga frowned. He moved back to the couch and sat down next to Oikawa, scooping up his phone to check the name of the missed calls.

“Huh.”

“Hm?”

“I thought it would be Ushijima-san calling, but it’s an unknown number.”

“Ugh, I’m glad it’s not him,” Oikawa scoffed, wrinkling his nose. “You should quit.”

“I’m not quitting my job because you don’t like my boss,” Suga laughed. “It’s probably a wrong number or a scam call or something…” He trailed off. “They left a voicemail though.”

“Well, hurry up. I’m hungry.”

Suga opened up the message and pressed play.

His heart dropped through the floor.

 _“Uh, S-Suga? It’s uh… it’s the guy from the coffee shop… you gave my number to your dog – I-I mean,_ your _number to_ my _dog… Sorry I haven’t called or anything before now… I didn’t – funny story, actually, I, uh, I didn’t find your note until today, and I was really sick last week so I couldn’t meet you that morning, and, obviously, I couldn’t tell you, because I only just found your number, so uh… I’m really, really sorry, you probably thought I wasn’t interested… and I am, I’m very interested – i-in getting to know you, you know, maybe in a… a date setting? Or not, I’m sorry, I’m not one to presume things, it’s totally… anyway, I-I’m sorry, I wish I could have shown up or talked to you, I’m really sorry, and if you don’t actually want to talk to me now, I get that, I-I just… anyway, I’m sorry, I’m rambling now, I, uh… you have my number now, so… do… with it… whatever you like, I guess? Uh, bye.”_

For a long moment, Suga sat in silence, processing the mess of a voicemail he’d just listened to. Beside him, Oikawa said nothing, but Suga could feel he was tense, waiting for a reaction.

He grinned, laughter bubbling over as he gripped his phone tightly, shoulders shaking.

“He’s so fucking stupid, Tooru,” he giggled. “He’s stupider than you.”

“Hey!”

“I can’t… I can’t believe…”

“That’s your Pole Guy?” Oikawa asked, frowning. “Really? And you believe that excuse?”

“Tooru, I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it at all, but this guy is really fucking stupid.”

Suga stared at his phone, heart beating a million miles an hour. _He doesn’t hate me! He’s not ghosting me!_ His hands shook.

"Well? Are you going to call him back?” Oikawa asked.

Suga swiped through his phone at lightning speed, rushing to return to the number he’d been coveting for weeks. It rang for far too long in his opinion, and he tapped his foot impatiently. But then –

“Uh, h-hello?”

Just hearing his beautiful voice again, being able to talk to him, made Suga’s chest bloom with warmth.

“Hi!” he said, trying to keep his excitement in check. “It’s – it’s Suga! From the coffee shop! I just got your message – I’m sorry I didn’t pick up; I didn’t realise it was you calling.”

“Th-that’s okay!” Gorgeous Pole Guy said. “I’m just… I’m really glad you actually want to talk to me.”

“Of course I do!” Suga smiled.

“I thought you might be… angry.”

“I mean, I was a little upset, because we were getting along so well and I really thought you wanted to see me again, and then you disappeared. But I just assumed you’d changed your mind.”

“No, no, not at all. I really wish I’d been able to meet you last Friday.” He sounded desperate, his voice shaking as he explained. “I got food poisoning Thursday night, and I couldn’t go… And I didn’t have your number, so I couldn’t tell you. I tried to call the coffee shop but I, uh, I didn’t think of that until the afternoon. They said you’d already left.”

Suga shook his head. “Sounds like you had one hell of a day. Co-worker getting hit by a car, food poisoning.”

“Yeah.” The guy laughed awkwardly. “And I had to run the shop basically by myself too. Great day.”

“I’m glad you called.”

“I’m glad I found your number. I honestly didn’t find it until today, and I called you as soon as I did. I-I’m so sorry about everything that’s happened, but I… I hope you’d maybe still like to…”

He trailed off nervously, stopping and starting the rest of the sentence a few times before finally managing to get out in a rush, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Suga pulled his knees into his chest, wrapping his free arm around his legs to contain the overwhelming joy that threatened to burst out of him. He wanted to get up and dance, scream, hug Oikawa – still sitting next to him, watching the exchange curiously. But somehow he forced himself to keep his cool for the most part, the only things belying his excitement being his grin and higher pitched voice as he said, “You know, I still actually don’t know your name.”

“Meatball.”

Suga paused.

“…I’m sorry?”

“Meatball, that’s her name,” Gorgeous Pole Guy continued, and he gave another nervous laugh. “Stupid, I know, but my little sister named her, and –”

Suga scrubbed a hand over his face, peeking out to look at Oikawa and mouth silently, his whole body shaking with barely-contained laughter, “He’s so fucking dumb.” Struggling to keep his voice even, he interrupted the man’s rambling and said, “That’s very sweet, and I love it, but I asked _your_ name.”

“Oh.” Suga could almost hear the gears clicking into place. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry, that must have sounded so weird, I thought you said _her_ name, as in my _dog_ , I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise!” Then – “Wait, Meatball’s a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell her I love her. And maybe scold her for not getting my number to you sooner.”

The man laughed. Suga could imagine him rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushed red, and he bit his lip. _Stupid_ and _drop dead gorgeous. I might be in love already_.

“Now,” he said, clearing his throat. “Before we get side tracked again. Name?”

“My name.”

“Yes, your name. Unless there’s anyone else that needs to be introduced?”

The man laughed again. “No, just me and Meatball. My name’s Daichi. Sawamura Daichi.”

“Sawamura Daichi.” Suga tested the name out, very much enjoying the rich, warm smoothness of it. “It’s lovely to finally know who I’m talking to. And you asked a question before, didn’t you?”

“Did I?”

“You asked if I wanted to go on a date with you.”

“O-Oh…” Daichi stammered. “Yeah, I did… If you’d rather be friends, I totally understand. I don’t want you to think I’m pushing for anything, I just… I think you’re very pretty, and genuine, and sweet, and I really like you, and I’d really like to get to know you more, if that’s something you’d be interested in, but we can absolutely just do that as friends, and we can pretend I didn’t just say any of that stuff or that I’ve been really stupid about you ever since I first saw you, and…”

“Sawamura Daichi,” Suga said, stopping him in his tracks. His heart felt like it was going to explode, and his cheeks hurt from grinning. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Oh… are you sure?”

Suga laughed. “Absolutely. Would you like to go out now?”

“N-Now?”

“Well, I feel we’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we? But we don’t have to. I’ve just sprung that on you with no warning, we can do another time.”

“N-no, you’re right, let’s do that! Give me… half an hour to get ready? If you text me your address, I’ll come pick you up?”

“Perfect. I know a nice little dessert place that’s just opened up nearby I’ve been wanting to try,” Suga said, ignoring the jab to his ribs by Oikawa. “Apparently they do some great mochi.”

“That sounds great. I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll see you soon. Daichi.” He couldn’t resist saying his name one more time, revelling in how wonderful it sounded.

“Suga.”

Daichi hung up, and Suga was left clinging to the phone, a shiver running down his spine. If Daichi’s name sounded beautiful, was a thrill just to _know_ , it was nothing compared to how it felt to hear his own name in the other’s deep, resonant voice.

“I can’t believe you’re ditching me to go on a date with a guy who walked into a lamppost.”

Suga giggled. “Yeah, because he saw _me_.”

“Fine!” Oikawa said dramatically, throwing himself back on the couch with an anguished flourish. “Go, enjoy mochi without me. Have fun.”

“I will.” Then - “Oh, shit!”

“What?”

“I can’t wear this! This isn’t date-worthy!”

“Oh, so it was fine to go out with me in those clothes, but not your new man? Lovely.”

“Shut up, Tooru, I need you to help me find something to wear.” Suga leapt from the couch in a panic and grabbed Oikawa by the front of his shirt, yanking him to his feet. Oikawa yelped, stumbling along behind Suga as he dragged him towards his bedroom.

“You’re lucky I care about you, Koushi! I’m going to make Pole Guy drop dead as soon as he sees you; that’s how amazing you’re going to look.”

“You’ve got half an hour!”

“ _What do you mean I’ve got half an hour?_ What kind of miracle do you think I can perform in _half an hour_?”

Suga rolled his eyes as Oikawa continued to loudly voice his displeasure, ignoring him in favour of thinking about finally getting to see his no-longer-mystery man’s gorgeous, perfect face again.

_Stupid about me, huh? Well, Sawamura Daichi, I might just be a little bit stupid about you too._


End file.
